


Less Than Perfect

by Asphodelia



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: I'm obsessed with their height difference and you should be too, M/M, angsty, bad kissing, just a moment in time, post 'All Will Be Judged'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asphodelia/pseuds/Asphodelia
Summary: Oswald had loved Ed, but that really didn't matter anymore.





	Less Than Perfect

He didn’t want this. 

Ed had been laughing when they glanced back at each other, eyes alight with an eerie glow Oswald couldn’t wait to snuff out. He wanted to kill this man as much as he’d ever wanted to kill anyone, besides maybe Theo Galavan. That he wanted Edward Nygma dead wasn’t in question. 

That’s why it was odd that they’d ended up like this – Ed’s lanky frame bending awkwardly to maintain contact, even as Oswald was dragging him down by the sides of his face. There was nothing at all graceful about the moment. They were missing each other’s mouths more often than not, and trying to stretch up to meet Ed was hurting Oswald’s leg. 

They kissed over and over again, sometimes even managing to meet each other’s lips, but none of the kisses went very deep. Because Oswald _didn’t want this_ and he doubted Ed did either. 

That wasn’t to say he could stop. This was still Ed, and he had wanted to kiss him before. He had also wanted laughing, and takeout, and late-night strategy sessions with interludes at the piano. He had wanted a lover who was also his best friend and only true confidant. He had wanted to kiss Ed in the soft light of the fire in their shared home. He had wanted to kiss Ed in the harsh flash of news cameras at every photo op they’d ever attended together. He had even wanted to kiss Ed in the murky corner of whatever club, back room, or industrial warehouse his business might take him to. Perhaps part of him would always want those things.

But he didn’t want this: two killers excited by the mutual threat of violence, going at each other like piranhas with slightly less teeth. But still an awful lot of teeth. Under happier circumstances Oswald might have been relieved that they were equally bad at this and looked forward to getting better together. But they weren’t Oswald and Edward right now, they were The Penguin and The Riddler and there were no sweet feelings between them. They were not the type of men who were allowed to simply be in love. 

Perhaps this was all either of them deserved. But it still wasn’t what Oswald wanted. So, when Ed took a second to stop his glasses from falling off his face, Oswald used that time to clear his head and shove the other man away. Hard. Edward stumbled backwards and onto the pavement. 

Oswald meant to look on him coldly for a moment before walking away and getting on with his life, but he ended up pausing for much longer than he intended. 

Ed looked confused for a moment, then positively devastated. Oswald couldn’t stop watching. He didn’t know if he wanted to run to him or laugh in his face and so he was simply frozen. 

He didn’t understand the pang that shot through him. This man had all but technically killed him. The kisses they had shared just then did not mean anything – if they had, Oswald might have wanted them. No, there was no reason to feel anything for Ed. Perhaps it was just the echo of a feeling that used to be real. Perhaps what he was seeing was the echo of the Edward Nygma that used to be real.

Because this ‘Riddler’ was not his Ed. His Ed was far from an innocent – all poisonous wit and warped earnestness. He was not a wolf in sheep’s clothing either, though, so much as an extremely deadly sheep. And he certainly wasn’t a showboat. Oswald should know, because he was one. He was achingly aware that he had always had something to prove to himself and to everyone who had ever thought of him as a simpering umbrella boy. As much as some might think Oswald full of himself, Edward had been the one to show him that he didn’t constantly have to assume everyone hated him. The people could love him. 

He had never thought of himself as ‘loveable’ in the eyes of anyone aside from his mother until Ed had come along. And he had helped Edward in the same way, he thought. Because maybe at one time Ed had been self-conscious and unsure, but during the time they were friends a quiet kind of strength and confidence had materialized around Ed. It had been magnetic. Oswald’s Edward hadn’t needed to publicly humiliate police officers he already knew he was smarter than. His knowing was enough. His plots had goals behind them, and attaining his objectives was enough. Oswald’s praise had been enough. He hadn’t needed to chase spotlights or conspiracies. 

The Riddler had been created by his Ed, supposedly to be his better self, but he was so much less than him. Aside from shooting Oswald, Edward Nygma had been perfect. But Oswald had not been the only one Ed had ‘killed’ at the docks and he needed to make himself accept that or this was all going to be so much harder than it needed to be. Perhaps if he could end Nygma’s life before this Riddler thing got too out of hand he could preserve some of his fonder memories of Ed well enough that he could still retreat into them some day, when he had some emotional distance from the whole situation.

Oswald looked at Ed sitting on the ground just long enough for that pang – that urge to go to him – to nearly win out. Luckily, before he could be overcome by some pathetic fantasy of putting things back to how they were before, Edward snapped out of whatever feelings had been gripping him and began laughing. He laughed long and hard and then he smiled at Oswald like an alligator before picking himself up and taking his leave.

He did not look back again. 

Neither would Oswald.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think =D


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